That's Amore
by malacoda
Summary: Bo has the chance to get a promotion and quit her underpaid job, but there is only a problem: if she wants to get it and move to Italy as a well paid manager she will need to attend an evening course of Italian. But she's not the only one interested to learn it...
1. Chapter 1

**A.N: Hey guys! (I just realized that I haven't written my A.N. when I first published this fanfiction) I'm trying a new thing with this story...I'd like to write a more serious one. Don't worry, it won't be a drama ;)**

 **Tell me if you like it, and if I should continue it!**

 **Thanks to my wonderful beta, who is nice and of great help as always! So, enjoy it! And please, review!**

 **...**

What would be one of the most haunting nightmares for a thirty year old who hated school with all her heart?

According to the brunette, who was nervously pacing back and forth in front of a big glass door that lead to into a modern building, that said nightmare rather was: coming back to school.

Ysabeau Dennis -Bo for the friends, relatives and every stranger she had ever met- didn't have nice memories of her high school years. Some spoiled brat in her class had spread the word that she had been involved in a sexual relationship with her teacher, and for five years she had been known as the 'Bitch who liked to dress like a whore and got on her knees to get good grades.'

But the truth was, that Bo had found a truly inspiring person in her teacher, but nothing more. That man had taught her that culture could give her a future. A real one.

Not the one that had been laying ahead of her if she had remained in that house, where her mother had been too busy getting drunk to realize that she had a daughter to love and take care of.

But those rumors that had persecuted her over the school years had slowly made her usually good grades go inexorably down, such as the love for school.

As time went by, Bo had found a job in a company that dealt with the development of new technologies.

It seemed like a great, interesting and well paid job, when Bo had read the job posting, but in reality Bo just became one of the dozens of underpaid careerist of a big multinational company.

Sometimes her job was funny. Especially when she had to travel around the States to meet new associates. But most of the time she just spent her time behind a stupid desk, crushed by the weight of tons of papers. And, oh boy, that was incredibly boring.

A week earlier Bo had glimpsed on a way out from that paper hell in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: her boss was looking for someone to travel to Italy and meet new potential founders.

If that founders could be convinced of them to build a new agency in Rome, it would mean just one thing: a new life. A new life in one of the most beautiful countries Bo could have ever been dreaming of living in. This and being an important manager with lots of money.

Not that Bo was a material woman, but she needed that money right now. The medical care for her mother were too expensive, and her house had soon become a den for unpaid bills.

The problem was: Bo knew nothing about Italy and Italians, and even though her boss was a good man, he had already expressed his will to send someone who could easily acclimate to a whole different environment.

Bo was already prepared to give up and watch her hated and 'Oh, look at me I'm so talented' colleague Nadia to take her place in this, but that damn special man who was her boss decided to give her an opportunity.

Since everybody needed to be trained for the meeting, he decided to include Bo, and write her, on the list of candidates, provided she could demonstrate a proper language preparation.

That meant: going back to school to learn some damn Italian.

That's why she decided to attend an evening course of Italian language and culture.

And that's why she was standing in front of the door, uncertain whether to go inside or not.

The brunette could see several people going back and forth in the halls through the large glass walls which constituted the entire building .

Adults usually attended the evening courses, because most of them worked during the day, while the afternoon courses were highly frequented by a lot of students and sometimes even children.

Bo sighed and made a move to enter when her phone rang. When she saw the name displayed on the screen, it made her heart calm down a little bit.

"Kenz."

"Hola BoBo, where are you? Hale is out for work tonight, I thought that we could hang out and drown in alcohol a little bit. My liver is way too clean tonight."

Bo smiled. "I can't, Kenz. I'm about to start my Italian class in five minutes or so."

Silence filled the air for a moment, followed by an exaggerated laugh of Bo's best friend.

"Oh good Mother of muffins, you were actually serious about it!"

"Of course I was!" Bo snorted, kicking a small stone.

"How do you feel BoBo?"

Bo looked at her bag. On the inside, just a pen and a notebook with a sleeping sheep on the cover staring back at her. Nothing more. How depressing.

"Let's see...I feel the need to vomit, I hate this place and the secretary in the main hall is looking at me like I'm an inmate that must serve social services. I'm definitely back at school."

On the other side of the line, she could hear Kenzi giggling. She was already drunk.

"Boba Fett, I'm sure it will be just fine. This is your big occasion, so go get your mustaches degree."

"Thanks, Kenz. Be safe."

"BoBo?"

Bo smiled while she readjusted the almost empty bag on her shoulder. "Yes, Kenzi?"

"Can I call you Mario?"

The brunette answered to her best friend in a not-so-cute manner and entered the building. She greeted the old secretary and made her way in the hallways, noticing with relief that no one seemed to care much about her.

'How silly', she thought.

She was an adult, surrounded by adults. She wasn't in high school anymore. And those stupid stereotypes about the cool football team captain, the brat who lead the cheerleaders team and the shy nerd always first in class, could not have been more stupid and false.

She took a long breathe before stepping into the classroom marked with an Italian flag. At least she could recognize the damn flag, she thought. How hard could this be?

…

The classroom was small. Bo could count fourteen people and, judging by the fact that almost all school desks were occupied, she was probably standing in front of all her new companions.

Bo was right, it wasn't like high school. Maybe worse. There were a few old people -why on earth would a granny want to learn another language at that age?-, but the rest of the participant seemed to have Bos' age.

Before she could make her way to the back of the class, a heavy hand waved from a corner. A tall, muscular and blond guy was winking at her, motioning to sit next to him. He had a cocky grin that Bo would have slapped away with pleasure. But she opted for a polite smile as she shook her head and moved towards her original goal: an empty desk far enough from anyone who had the look of someone who loved to talk.

The guy snorted and kept staring at her with a grin. That must be him, Bo thought. The dumb-captain-of-the-football-team guy.

Some preconceptions were true, after all.

The man mouthed her something, maybe he was asking for her number?

Bo raised her middle finger before turning on the other side. She heard a woman's laugh and then the guy murmured something like, "Bitch." before shifting his weight and facing the blackboard.

The quiet murmuring that had kept the students busy in the last minutes ceased when a tall and beautiful woman entered the classroom with a bright smile.

Her face was characteristic of the Mediterranean people, with big deep brown eyes and long curly hair. She was fascinating. The woman put the bag on the chair before sitting down on the desk, legs crossed, looking at those who were present with an expectant smile.

"Good evening everyone, I'm Ms. Tamara Foschi and I will be your Italian teacher for the next ten months." she introduced herself with a slightly Italian accent.

Bo looked around. Several people were smiling and some of the men -including a creepy ninety-year-old and the rude guy from earlier- seemed to be more interested in the teacher's legs than in her words.

Some college students -probably there in order to gain more credits- were texting with their phones, not very worried to hide them.

The only person who really seemed to care about the lesson was a blonde woman, who had already took out her immaculate copybook and started writing.

What the hell was there to write just yet? Her teacher's name?

Bo squeezed her eyes lightly at the sight of the blonde's hand, writing fast on the paper.

Was she using colorful bookmarks? And...how many different pens did she have?

What a dork.

"Found the nerd..." Bo murmured amused before returning her attention to the teacher, who was now finishing to write her full name with chalk on the blackboard.

She turned around still smiling and ignored the cocky grin on the man's face, just a few desks away from her.

"In the first part of the course you will learn the basics of the Italian language and culture. I will split our weekly lessons into three different types: grammar, vocabulary, and mass culture, so I recommend to be present at all lessons. At the end of these first five months you will have to pass a preliminary test. Some of you will succeed, some of you won't. If you pass the first test, you will access the advanced stage of the course, more complicated and specific. After the final test you will receive a degree. Is that all clear?"

Several people nodded, including Bo who was scared as hell. Two tests? That was insane. She knew that she had time and that the school she had chosen was a good one, but she didn't expect such a big thing.

Bo looked around once again. The blonde -whose face she couldn't look at- was writing as if she was possessed by that God damn ink pen holding in her hand tightly.

'Geez, relax woman!' the brunette thought.

Ms. Foschi slowly started walking around the desks.

"Now, for our first lesson I want to get to know you a little bit." she said with a reassuring smile.

"Oh crap...here we go." Bo moaned in pain.

She hated this part. The part when you had to stand up and talk about your shit.

'We are adults!' she thought, 'What could there ever be to tell about ourselves? We are boring!'

"I want you to introduce yourselves one at a time. Tell the class who you are, why you are here and, if you want, tell something in Italian!"

Some people looked insecure, but the woman was fast to reassure her students. She raised her hands and laughed lightly.

"This is not a test, I just want to see at what level your language skills are. Who wants to start?"

Of course, nobody raised a hand. Oh, wait, somebody did. A skinny, gnarled and trembling hand raised slowly. It belonged to the old man who was enjoying the teacher's legs just five minutes ago.

The teacher nodded happily and waited for him to stand up.

"Is he having a stroke?" the rude man of before grinned, not caring of being heard.

The old man smiled politely and turned to the class. "Hello, my name is Amos H. Wells and I'm here because I want to do something new and I want to surprise my wife Celia..."

The students clapped their hands, amused by the old man's vigor.

Suddenly Bo heard a snort coming from the school desk nearby.

"You want to surprise her? Take some blue pills and you will see how she'll be surprised..."

Bo tried with all her might to stay serious and to give the person who made the joke an indignant look, but she couldn't contain the laugh that escaped from her mouth a moment later.

'You are a horrible person, Bo Dennis.'

She turned and saw a pretty girl with glacial eyes and platinum hair looking at her. Taking advantage of the fact that all the attention of the class was laid upon the old man, Bo gave her a shy smile.

"Sorry."

The blonde moved her desk a little more near Bo's.

"Don't be. I'm glad that there's still someone who appreciates humor."

She stretched her hand. "Tamsin."

"Bo."

"Why are you here?" she asked, but was interrupted by the teacher, who called for her attention by clearing her throat.

"Tasmin, I see that you haven't lost your attitude, even though being here in your second year."

The blonde stretched her arms and smiled.

"No...some attitudes are hard to surmount..." she said as she looked at her teacher with...desire? Bo couldn't read her eyes.

"Relax, Teacher, I was only asking my friend why she's here."

And now the all of the attention of the class was upon Bo.

'Nice move, Tamsin, thanks.'

Ms Foschi turned to Bo, and the brunette had the confirmation that teachers could really smell their students' fear. But the woman wasn't evil at all, that for was sure. Her eyes softened as they met Bo's.

"Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?"

The brunette smiled and stood up, very slowly. For the first time she caught a glimpse of the blonde in the front row, who had turned in her direction and for the first time that blonde wasn't bent over her copybook.

A pair of hazel orbs were staring at her with curiosity. Her facial features were well defined. Two thin and pink lips, bitten by perfect teeth in a slightly nervous reflex.

Although her hair was a little bit messy, it was beautiful nonetheless. And soft.

Bo swallowed hard before returning her attention to the teacher.

"Well, my name is Bo. I'm here because of my job. I need to learn some Italian. And I'm sorry but currently my Italian language skills are...well, I don't even have a level of knowledge of this language, or Italy in general."

Ms Foschi smiled and motioned her to sit down again.

"It's okay, Bo. We are here to learn. And we will start from the same level."

Bo smiled and sighed contently. That was easy after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N: Hello people! Sorry for the delay, but life called. And since I have some things to deal with right now, I don't know when the next chapter is going to be published. I'm flattered, I got a such positive response to this story! For this reason I have to thank (I will always do) my beta, who helps me -a lot!- with grammar. Without her my stories would been boring and insipid. You are precious, adrenalynn1986! And also a great writer ;)**

 **So...this story: I told you this one won't be only humoristic and light...so expect some bumps on the road, and some drama. For now...enjoy it!**

 **I will do my best to update it soon. Please review here, in PMs or on my twitter at chiara_dam**

 **Your thoughts are important! Grazie :)**

 **...**

In the last twenty minutes Ms Foschi got every student to stand up and introduce themselves in front of the class, and Bo felt less alone when she realized that she wasn't the only one who didn't know shit about Italy.

Several people had been there for the same reasons as Bo was: work.

That was a relief for the brunette, who found herself more relaxed and ready to learn.

In those twenty minutes Bo had a chance to study her classmates more closely.

The blonde who was sitting next to her, with those ice-cold eyes and a cocky grin permanently drawn across her face, was Tamsin. Apparently Tamsin was attending the course for her second year now, but honestly, she didn't seem to be of much interest in anything Italian.

Except of pizza. She had a huge knowledge of every type of pizza existing in the world, and that was...weird? Totally. But also interesting, Bo had to admit.

The main reason why a person like Tamsin, seemingly being tempted to return for that second year, might take part in that kind of course would have been because of the teacher.

The blonde didn't make an effort to hide her interest in the Italian woman, but Bo couldn't say whether Ms Foschi reciprocated the feeling.

Every time Tamsin's eyes met the ones of her teacher, the Italian woman avoid them merely.

That rude guy, who addressed Bo as a bitch before, was a certain Dyson _Torn-something_. When it was his turn to talk he simply stood up, making sure to show off his muscles, and mumbling something about his will to learn some Italian just for fun.

Fun?

What a shitty reason for a person like that. He clearly had no interest to be there. There had to be some base motives.

Anyway Bo didn't have much time to think about that, because the last person who had to introduce herself was also the only one, Bo was actually interested in getting to know more about.

The pretty girl from before, the maniac of fancy pens, stood up with a bright smile.

"My name is Lauren, and I'm here because I love Italian literature, and also because my friend Tamsin dragged me with her..."

Some people laughed, including the blonde near Bo.

So, that Lauren was Tamsin's pal...interesting. Bo would keep that in mind.

The brunette listened intently as Lauren continued. "I'm just kidding. The chance to learn more about another culture is something I find very interesting and so...Here I am!"

Ms Foschi smiled politely. "Good! And can you say something in Italian? Have you ever learned something before?"

Lauren smiled shyly and cleared her throat before speaking up again, in almost perfect Italian.

"Quando, all'alba, dall'ombra s'affaccia

discende le lucide scale

e svanisce; ecco dietro la traccia

d'un fievole sibilo d'ale,

Io la inseguo per monti, per piani,

nel mare, nel cielo: già in cuore

io la vedo, già tendo le mani,

già tengo la gloria e l'amore."

Silence.

No other word could be heard in that damn classroom anymore. Suddenly Bos' heart stopped pounding in her chest and got stuck, mercilessly, in her throat.

That woman clearly was a goddess. Although Bo couldn't understand one word Lauren just said, she realized why so many people were fascinated by this language.

It was complicated, but also full of harmony, poetic.

And that Lauren was good. More than good. Why was she even attending the course?

The teacher clapped her hands, immediately followed by other students.

Bo didn't realize that she was staring at Lauren with wide eyes and mouth hanging open until a not so gentle voice called her back from heaven.

"What are you staring at?" Tamsin said, suddenly serious.

"Oh, nothing...it's just...do you know that girl?" she asked nonchalantly, knowing excatly the answer.

"The teacher? I wish I would know her better..." the blonde grinned.

But her smile faded as soon as she turned to Bo again.

"You're not planning to ask her out, aren't you? She's my catch, and if you think..."

"No! I don't want to ask her out! I was talking about that...Lauren."

Bo remained unpleasantly surprised when Tamsin's look didn't change at all. In fact, it got even worse.

"Why would you go out with her?"

She was serious, and her clenched fists weren't reassuring at all. She had a slightly threatening look typical for some killers Bo had the chance to see in the movies that Kenzi used to rent on Friday nights.

"Well...I...why not? I mean, is she your friend?"

"Worse."

"Sister?"

"Worse."

Bo raised an eyebrow, uncertain about what to say next.

"Ex-girlfriend?"

Tamsin shook her head and mouthed her the same word like before, with the most dangerous ice-cold eyes that Bo had ever seen.

"Worse. I'm her best friend. And you better go home and take a cold shower. That woman is off-limits..."

"Tamsin!" Ms Foschi called loudly, slightly bored. "Can you please come here to sit in the front?"

Tamsin crossed her arms and smiled. "Nope, Miss. But you could come here to sit in the back."

Bo watched as Ms Foschi tried her best to hide a smile. The teacher shook her head and turned her attention to Bo, who was caught off guard by her request.

"Bo, can you come and sit over here? I have the impression that Tamsin might distract you."

The Italian woman pointed to an empty desk in the front corner of the class, and before Bo could say anything, Ms Foschi dragged it near the one where Lauren was sitting.

'Hell yeah', Bo thought.

But just when she was about to take her things with her -the stupid copybook and the pen- Tamsin's whisper reached her ear.

"If you'll try to do all Casanova with her, I will smash your pretty face against a wall. You have been warned, Bo."

The brunette gulped and slowly made her way to the desk, just to find out that the shitty grinning Dyson guy would sit right behind her.

"Nice..." she murmured as she sank onto the chair.

Now, the blonde's good smell was really distracting. It was something sweet and sad at the same time. Like the last glimpse of summer.

That scent was delicate, and yet it pervaded Bo's senses forcefully, leaving a strong desire inside of her to hug that girl and stay in that pose forever.

Bo was so lost in thoughts -again- that she didn't pay much attention to the blonde, who was now looking at her with slight curiosity.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked quietly as Ms Foschi was busy answering some technical questions.

The brunette gulped and shook her head. 'Well done, Bo. A good way to start.'

"So-sorry. I was thinking about something. Anyway I'm Bo."

She offered her hand, and Lauren shook it while smiling politely.

"Nice to meet you, Bo. I'm Lauren."

Before Bo could say anything else, Lauren buried her head in the copybook yet again.

There was no way that the blonde was turning her down just like that, Bo thought.

"So..." Bo said, making circles with her finger a few inches away of Lauren's forearm. "That was a very nice...thing you said in Italian."

Lauren stopped her maniacal scribble for a second and mocked.

"Thing? You would call one of the most beautiful Italian poems a ' _thing'_?"

She shook her head and kept on taking notes, ignoring Bo who was staring at her, both stunned and pissed.

"Well, _'excuseee me princess'_ if I can't boast knowledge about a culture I used to ignore for larger part part of my life."

It was Bo's turn to snort, as she turned to the other side and tried with all her might to force her pen to write. Of all the goddamn pens she could have taken, she chose the only one that wouldn't work.

Oh, cool, this was just great. The brunette took a mental note to bring more pens with her for the next time as she shook the one she was holding in her hand angrily.

"Did you just mentioned a Link quote from 'The Legend of Zelda?" she heard Lauren ask.

Bo was too focused on killing that damn pen than to look at her.

"Yeah, why."

After a moment of quietness, the blonde silently handed a pen to Bo.

"It's my favorite video game." Lauren murmured absently, observing the blackboard.

"Oh yeah?" Bo smiled brightly, "What other video games do you usually..."

Lauren waved her hand, stopping Bo in her track.

"Shhh, the lesson is starting!"

Bo, with wounded pride, took the pen and turned her attention to Ms Foschi, who was now writing a few words on the slate.

"Since this is our first day together, I'd like to spend this lesson to introduce to you the Italian language. This is a rather light lecture for tonight. But the hard stuff will come soon, don't worry!" she joked as the chock in her hand kept forming words on the black surface.

Many people laughed at the statement, including Bo, who took advance of the regular short interruptions to glance at Lauren.

The woman was struggling with her hair since every time she bent her head to write, a few golden locks used to fall into her face, tickling her nose.

Bo smiled and almost asked her if she needed help, when a little paper ball hit her back, making her turn in the direction of the blond man sitting behind her.

"You know, Italian won't be the only hard thing in this room if you keep wearing those tight pants..." Dyson grinned, licking his lips.

Bo raised an eyebrow.

"Well, thank you for the information. Now, if you don't mind..."

The sound of a desk moving closer caught her attention again.

"Why don't we go out after the lesson? I could be your personal tutor...How do Italians say? Maeso?"

Somebody snorted with laughter. Bo turned to where the sound had come from and could see Lauren grinning and shaking her head, never taking her eyes off of the blackboard.

Dyson must have heard her as well, because his smile died on his face, leaving only an arrogant look.

"What are you laughing at, _weirdo_?"

"Nothing. But since we are talking: it's maestro. Not _maeso_. One more reason to pay attention and not harassing a woman."

Lauren didn't wait for any answer of the man, who slowly retired to his original position. Bo suppressed a laugh.

"You surely know how to put someone in his place." the brunette observed.

"Can I show you my gratitude by offering you a beer?"

Lauren kept writing on her copybook. "You should pay attention to the teacher too, Bo."

"Is that a yes?"

Lauren laughed. "It's clearly a no."

Bo opened her mouth and gave her an offended look. "Well? You know what? Forget it. Now I don't want to invite you out anymore."

The blonde licked her lips as she looked attentively to the words written in Italian in front of her.

"Still not paying attention..."

Bo grunted and flipped a random page of her copybook open.

"You're mean."

Lauren smiled subtly, but said nothing. The lesson was much more entertaining.

…

An hour and half later Bo escaped from that madness. Ten month of that? Seriously?

Between that idiot, Dyson, the bothersome desk mate Lauren and her best friend Tamsin -who, by the way, seemed to come right out of prison- Bo didn't know how she would learn any Italian.

What about the first lesson? If that was easy, the teacher must have really weird standards. Why would Italians need that many greetings? Her first page -the only page she had actually managed to write- was full of words. Without meaning to her.

And that stupid Lauren? She wrote something like five pages? Five pages of what!? Every time Bo got closer to her during the lesson the blonde used to cover her copybook with her hand.

What a child! What a stupid, childish-

"Fifty shades of Bo! You're home, finally!" Kenzi squealed, making the brunette jump on the spot.

"Kenz, you scared the shit out of me!"

The young girl took off her aviator glasses and hugged her.

"I made you some pizza."

Bo raised an eyebrow as she took off her jacket. "You 'made'?"

"All right, all right! I bought it. Big difference...speaking of Mexican food...How was your course?"

Bo sat on the couch and took a bite of pizza. "Pizza's not mex- aaah, I don't have time for jokes. Horrible. Simply horrible."

The brunette leaned forward to take her copybook and handed it to her best friend.

"Full of strange, difficult words..."

Kenzi gave her a skeptical look and raised the open copybook.

"These words? Difficult? Bo these are greetings. _'Ciao, Buongiorno, Arrivederci, Addio'_."

A grunt escaped from the other woman, who took a sip of beer and threw a boot on the other side of the room.

"I know! I...I don't know. That course is full of weird people. I got distracted a lot."

Kenzi raised her hands and stood up.

"Hold on. Distracted in a good way?"

Bo seemed to think about that.

"I don't know...I would say...no?"

"What kind of mean person answers to a question with another question?"

Kenzi stated. "Come on, BoBo! What happened? You fell for an Italian plumber?"

"Not exactly..." Bo murmured, taking another slice of pizza.

"Is he hairy? Because we can fix that."

The brunette laughed and motioned for Kenzi to sit.

"I'm not falling for anyone. I had a...weird encounter. And she's not hairy at all."

"She?"

Another long sip of beer. "Yep."

Kenzi nodded and fixed her look on the television. With the mouth full of pizza she managed to say: "I've heard that Italian women have mustaches."

Bo scoffed.

"That is so not true! Plus, she's not Italian. She's one of my classmates. And you know what? Forget it. She's a stubborn brat, always focused on her stupid copybook, with her shitty manners and her shitty fancy pens..."

Bo sighed. Why was she even thinking of her now?

"BoBo?"

"Yes, Kenz..."

"You're totally falling for her."


	3. UPDATE

Hello everyone. First of all, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for being so cute and kind to me. I know I left this story hangin' and I feel sorry because as a writer I know how much is disrespectful to just leave your readers without a word.

And I apologize for the upcoming drama, but I feel like I owe you a explanation.

In the last three years of my life I've been suffering of a severe depression condition (I don't actually know how it's called in english) that left me without feelings nor reasons to live. Reading stories and whatching shows like Lost Girl helped me a lot, but it comes the time when the only thing you can do to survive is calling for a professional help.

I've been doing this. I have chainged many things in my life, and without expectations I've become an american football player and a freelance journalist.

Things are still hard and sometimes I really need to shut down my brain. But I don't like to leave projects like this one without a course.

I WILL write soon and continue this story 'till its end. But I can't ensure a frequent presence here.

Again, thank you a lot for your support, I will always be grateful for this. Please feel free to write to me anytime giving me ideas and hints to write. I will do my very best to make you laugh again.

Grazie.

-Your friendly Italian neighbour


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